


Here Comes Trouble

by ShenanigansEnsue



Series: Shenanigans and Imagines [16]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 21:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12067740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShenanigansEnsue/pseuds/ShenanigansEnsue
Summary: Based on Request:  Could you write a reader x Vasquez story Where reader is also an outlaw but reader looks harmless and is super deceiving until the group is attacked and reader shows their true colors! (Sam knows of course and sends judging/pitying looks to his group every time they treat reader like they are a child/weak/useless)(Not quite like the prompt, but close)





	Here Comes Trouble

          Vasquez clutched his bloody arm as he rode behind the procession of who the people of Rose Creek had lovingly dubbed “The Magnificent Seven”.  However, at the moment, he wasn’t feeling up to the name.  

           Ever since Rose Creek the seven of them had decided to stick together.  He couldn’t say exactly why.  They just ended up all going the same direction and hadn’t split off since.  

           He supposed in a way it made sense.  Traveling as a group was usually safer than going it alone.  For his part, traveling with a warrant officer deterred others from trying to hunt him down.  Of course, it had its drawbacks.

           As much as Rose Creek had done to make them heroes, it had brought them their fair of trouble.  Many of Bogue’s associates were rather displeased about their sudden lack of income and some had taken it into their minds to kill the ones responsible.

           They had ridden into a small town just as the sun was going down for a night’s rest when one of the men at the bar recognized Sam’s name.  Things went to hell after that. The man pulled a gun on Sam and Sam fired back.  Unfortunately, the man also had some friends and soon everyone had their pistols out at the bar turned into a shooting gallery.  It was over as fast as it began leaving the men dead and the seven relatively unscathed, all except for him.

          The sheriff came in not long after that. Vasquez decided to make himself scarce while Sam and the bartender explain what happened.  They weren’t to be arrested as it was seen as an act of self-defense, but it was strongly implied that all of them had to leave town.

           They split not long after that with no time to look at his arm before they rode off.  Sam promised he knew a place nearby they could stay for the night.  Vasquez hoped he was right.  He was starting to get woozy.

           He closed his eyes, and tried to keep his breathing steady when he heard the sound of horse hooves trotting up beside him.

           “Damn Vas, you look like shit,” Faraday said bluntly.

           “Shove it up your ass, guerro,” he grumbled back, hissing slightly as a jostle from the horse pulled at his arm.

           Faraday rolled his eyes, not looking at all offended the comment.

           “Well, Sam told me to tell you the outpost is just over that hill.  Think you can make it?”

           Vasquez glanced over at the gambler, surprised to see a genuine look of concern on his face.  

           He looked back at his arm, pulling his hand away from the wound revealing a disgusting display of dark, red stained cloth and flesh.   He grimaced at the sight, but covered it up quickly with a half-smile.  

           “So far so good.”

* * *

           All was quite as you wiped down the tables of the little outpost you called your home.  The owner had hired you on about two years ago and by this point trusted you to run it on your own, only coming to check on things every few weeks.  

There honestly wasn’t much to check on.  Mostly people came passing through as a place to rest their horses before moving onto the next town. Some families in the mountains came in for supplies, but that was about it.  It wasn’t much different that night.  Nobody had come in since a group of riders left that morning.  

           Just as you were thinking of turning in early, a knock came at the door startling you out of their thoughts.  You put your rag away and straightened your skirt before opening the door.  Your eyes widened in surprise upon seeing an old familiar face.

           “Sam,” you greeted.  “Didn’t expect to see you around here.”

           “Neither did I,” he admitted.  “I wouldn’t be bothering you, but me and my men ran into a bit a trouble last town over and need a place for the night.”

           You glanced over his shoulder.  Six other men were all sitting on their horses, looking a little worse for wear. It certainly was an odd assortment from what you could tell.

           “That trouble follow you?” you asked.

           “Not as far as I know,” Sam said. “Look, the horses could probably go for one more night, but one of us is injured—“

           You held you hand up, signaling him to stop.

           “You don’t need to convince me.”

           Sam gave you a relieved smile.  

           “Go ahead and bring your man in and I’ll see what I can do,” you said.  “Meantime, stable is open, rooms are down that way and done up with fresh sheets.  Once you’re all settled, I’ll see about getting you boys something to eat.”

           “Thank you,” Sam said.

           “Yeah, well, I owe you,” you countered with a sigh.

           Sam gave a small smile in return and turned back to his men, waving a couple of them over.  The two of them approached.  One, a red-haired man in a dark brown hat, and the other a rather tall looking Mexican who was clutching his left arm.  The red head was trying to help guide the other towards you, much to his annoyance.

           “I can make it,” the Mexican protested.

           “Yeah, sure you can,” the other said.

           The Mexican grumbled something in Spanish you couldn’t understand as he made his way up the small flight of stairs to the porch where you and Sam stood.

           “Let’s get you looked at,” you said, nodding him towards the door.

           He glanced over at Sam giving him a questioning look.

           Sam gave a small reassuring nod, before walking down the steps to the rest of his men.

           The Mexican looked back to you, giving you a look that made it clear to you he didn’t trust easily.  You didn’t say anything as you walked inside waiting for him to follow.  After a beat or so he did.

           “Go ahead and take a seat,” you said, walking around the counter.  

           He did as his friend stood close by.

           You began rummaging around the back, grabbing bandages, scissors, sewing needle, and a small pale of water.  You then turned to the line of bottles sitting on the high shelves. You went to fetch you step stool, when the red-head spoke up.

           “Let me help you,” he said, walking up behind the counter and reaching for the whiskey on the top shelf.  

           You couldn’t stop a small frown forming on your face as he handed you the bottle, but decided not to make a fuss. It wasn’t the first time a man had stepped in to do something you were perfectly capable of doing yourself.

           “Thank you,” you said stiffly. “Mr. ?”

           “Faraday,” he said.  “Joshua Faraday.  And the man you’re about to sew up is Vasquez.”

           You looked back at your patient who was looking rather annoyed by the whole situation.  You could hardly blame him though.  You knew well enough the pains of being shot at.

           “No first name Mr. Vasquez,” you asked, taking your supplies and walking back to him.

           “Just Vasquez,” he said, shortly.

           Despite your curiosity, you didn’t press the issue.  You set the supplies on the table and pulled up a chair to get a better look at his arm.  Blood was everywhere, and the fabric plastered to his arm wasn’t helping matters. You took the scissors first and cuts the fabric of his shirt all the way up the shoulder before peeling it away.

           Vasquez let out a hiss of pain, but didn’t jerk, much to your relief.

           You then grabbed a cloth, soaked it in the pale of water and began to dab away the blood as gently as you could.

           Vasquez kept his eyes on you the entire time.  Even though you weren’t looking directly at him, you could feel their intensity.  You weren’t sure whether you should be blushing or intimidated.

“Who are you?” he finally asked.

           “Y/L/N,” you said, as you wiped away the last of the blood.

           “Just Y/L/N?”

           “You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine,” you answered, meeting his eyes.

           To his credit he didn’t look away. He searched your face, looking for what you couldn’t say.  You weren’t sure what is was about his look, but you were becoming very aware of how close he was.

           “So,” Faraday said, breaking the tension. “Is that Mrs. Y/L/N or Ms. Y/L/N?”

           You pulled your gaze away from Vasquez, to Faraday with a raised eyebrow.

           “Is that a subtle way to ask if I’m married?” you asked.

           “I don’t think he was being subtle,” Vasquez add under his breath.  

           “Just wondering what’s the proper way to address you,” Faraday said, giving one of those easy smiles you knew probably got him in as much trouble as it got him out.

           “It’s Ms.,” you said, before turning your attention back to Vasquez.  “You’re gonna need stiches.”

           Vasquez gave a stiff nod and you handed him the whiskey bottle.  He took a healthy swig of it before handing it back to you. You took it gladly, taking a swig yourself before pouring some on the wound.

           Vasquez’s arm jerked away that time, as he let out a small string of curses.  

           “Damn it woman,” he snapped, “warn me next time.”

           “Next time,” you said sardonically as you poured whiskey on the needle. “Now this is gonna sting.”

           He settled back into his chair, his jaw tight as you lined yourself up with his arm.  

           You pushed the needle in.  

           Vasquez let out a grunt of pain behind gritted teeth as he arm jerked away again.  You held onto it, forcing his shoulder down and you made another incision. Your rubbed small circles into his arm with your free hand, trying to get him to relax his muscles as best you could.  He didn’t give any more cries of pain.  He simply kept his eyes forward, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth.

           To your slight surprise, Faraday didn’t say anything during the operation. He simply looked on, his face rather serious, with crossed arms.  

           You finished your work, and handed Vasquez the whiskey bottle once more.

           He took it gratefully and took two more swigs of the amber liquid.  He then looked to Faraday, and handed it out to him.

           Faraday took it and began chugging it down while you wrapped up Vasquez arm.

           “You should be alright,” you said, tying off the bandage.  “Just try not to move it too much.  You’re lucky the bullet went straight through.”

           “Well, I certainly feel lucky,” Vasquez said sarcastically.

           You couldn’t help a small smile at that.  He was at least having a sense of humor about it. He caught you look, smiling a bit himself.

           “Gracias,” he said.

           “You’re welcome,” you said, giving him a quick look up and down.  “You need a new shirt.”

           Vasquez looked down at his bloody appearance and gave a resigned nod of agreement.

           “I’ll be right back,” you said.

           You got up from your seat and made your way to a backroom behind the counter. Inside was a storage of supplies for some of the homesteaders in the area; flour, fabric, tools, and so on. You looked around and quickly found what you were looking for in a pile of workman’s clothes.

You walked back out, Vasquez still in his seat and Faraday nowhere in sight, presumably still with the bottle of whiskey.

           “I had to guess the size,” you said, walking over to him.  “Hopefully it fits.”

           You held out the shirt to him, but to your surprise he didn’t take it.  He eyed you and it suspiciously as if at any moment you would pull it away from him or ask for some kind of favor.  You couldn’t help but feel a little sad at the thought, but continued to hold it out anyway.

           He looked over your features carefully, and after a beat he took the shirt from your hands.

           “You can change back there,” you said, nodding to the back room.  “If you need help with anything or need a different fit, let me know.”

           He nodded, and made his way to the back.

           Taking the moment by yourself, you started setting the table for seven and cleaned up the rest of the place as quickly as you could.  You started making a mental list of what you would need to feed everyone when Vasquez stepped out of the back, buttoning up his vest.

           “It fit alright,” you asked.

           “Si,” he said, looking at you.  If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was embarrassed. “Gracias, again.”

           “No skin off my nose,” you said.  “Besides, you look a lot better not covered in blood.”

           He huffed out a small laugh as he came back out around the counter.  It was then you noticed just how tall he actually was, granted you weren’t so big yourself, but you were still well below his shoulder.

           “You seem to do well with blood in any case,” he said.

           “Well contrary to what most men believe, us women folk have more experience with blood on average than they do,” you countered.

           He full on laughed at that, shaking his head.

           “Fair enough,” he said.

           There was a small beat of silence between you.  Maybe it was the change of clothes or the simple fact he wasn’t bleeding so profusely, but he seemed to be in a much better mood than when he came in. A small smile graced his features, as he looked you over, causing your heart to beat faster than you felt it had the right to.  He really was a handsome.  

           “You said you were a miss,” he said, conversationally.  “Is this place your father’s?”

           “No, I just work here,” you said.  “Owner more or less leaves me in charge.”

           “You mean, he’s not here now,” he asked, sounding confused.

           “Comes in every few weeks or so to collect the money, that’s about it,” you shrugged.

           His expression then changed from one of confusion to once of concern.

           “That sounds like trouble.”

           Your brow twitched slightly in annoyance at the implication.

           “How do you mean?”  you said, standing a little straighter and folding your arms.

           “Well,” he stumbled slightly.  He seemed to have only just realized he was stepping onto thin ice.  

           “It’s usually not safe for a woman on her own out in the middle of nowhere,” he said carefully. “Especially when she’s sitting on half a month’s worth of income, not to mention anything else you’d want to steal in this place.”  

          “You think I can’t handle myself?” you challenged.

           “I didn’t say that,” he defended. “I just mean it’s asking for trouble.”

           “Well it ain’t found me yet.”

           Vasquez didn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at you.  He looked like he wanted to continue arguing the point, but quickly let it go.  His expression shifted to something different which you could only identify as resignation.

           “Well, I hope your luck holds out,” he said.

           You gave a small nod of appreciation when the doors swung open.  Sam entered along with the rest of his men except for Faraday.

           “How are you feeling Vasquez,” Sam asked.

           “Not bad,” he said.

           “Rooms are just down the way,” one of the men said with a distinct Cajun accent. “Faraday has already claimed one of the bunks.”

           Vasquez cursed something in Spanish as he all but ran his way out the door leaving you alone with the other men.

           “Thanks for looking after him,” Sam said.

           “Ain’t no trouble,” you said with a smile.  “Care to introduce me?”

           “Right, Y/L/N this is Goodnight Robicheaux, Billy Rocks, Jack Horne, and Red Harvest. Everyone, this is Ms. Y/L/N.”

           You looked at each of the men as Sam list them off.  Billy and Red Harvest each gave you a small nod while Goodnight and Horne took off their hats.

           Goodnight crossed the room, taking you hand in a more formal greeting.

           “It’s a pleasure to meet you cher,” he said sweetly. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

           “Goody,” Sam said in a warning tone.

           He brushed him off with a smile which you couldn’t help but match.

           “Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before Sam,” you said, before looking back and Goodnight. “It’s nice to meet you as well Mr. Robicheaux, now if you release my hand, I’ll see if I can get you boys something to eat.”

           “Oh, I like you,” he said as he let go.

           You gave a small smile in return, turning towards the rest of the men.

           “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable,” you said.  “Hope you boys like biscuits and gravy.”

           Billy, Sam, Goodnight, and Horne gave appreciative smiles, but Red Harvest made a grimace, saying something in his native tongue you didn’t understand.

            “What did he say,” you asked.

           “It sounds lovely miss,” Horne said.

           You glanced between him and Red Harvest.  You didn’t need to understand exactly what Red Harvest said to know Horne was lying, but you decided not to comment.

           “Well then, I guess I better get started,” you said, before turning towards the kitchen. 

* * *

           It didn’t take you long to throw something together, despite the quantity required.  Luckily a new supply had come in only a few days ago so you weren’t short on anything.

           You came out with food to see them all sitting in a circle including Vasquez and Faraday.  

           You put the plates down on the table.  The meal consisted of biscuits, gravy, bacon, bean, mashed potatoes, and you had even been able to get some fish you had caught the day before.

           To your relief, Red Harvest at least put the fish onto his plate and began eating, even going for a few biscuits.  You made the rounds, refilling everyone’s glasses with water and leaving a bottle of whiskey for the table.  Although, you had to stop Faraday from taking anymore.  He was still nursing the bottle he had taken earlier.

           “Why don’t you join us,” Goodnight asked.  “Seems wrong to leave our host out of the party.”

           “Are you sure you don’t have an ulterior motive Mr. Robicheaux?” you countered.

           “Well I admit I am a little curious how you and Sam met,” he said.  “That’s got to be an interesting story.”

           You felt yourself stiffen involuntarily.  Sam shot you a concerned look, but you were able to shake it off rather quickly.

           “Not really,” you said. “I was in some trouble, Mr. Chisolm got me out of it. Ain’t nothing more than that.”

           Goodnight didn’t say anything as he looked you over.  

You stared back at him with an expression telling him plain and simple that you didn’t want to talk about.  

You had to give him credit, he got the message quickly.  His curious expression slipped into one of understanding as he shot you an apologetic smile.

           “Fair enough,” he said.

           You felt yourself giving a small thankful smile back.  

           “C’mon, you’re gonna give up that easily,” Faraday chimed in.  “What sort of trouble?”

           Any good will Goodnight had just earned evaporated immediately as you shot a cold look at Faraday.

           “The kind I don’t like to talk about with drunk men,” you said bluntly.

           “I’m not—“

           “Guerro,” Vasquez said warningly.  

           Faraday looked at him surprised, before taking a look around the table, every face telling him silently to drop it.

           He looked back to you.

           “Never mind,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “But, you gotta at least tell us what’s a pretty lady like you doing out here by your lonesome.”

           “Maybe when I get to know you better,” you said.  “And you’re sober.”

           “So, you’re never going to tell us,” Vasquez said, smirking.

           There was a round of laughter from the table as Faraday looked at Vasquez, mildly offended.

           It was then the door opened, and five new faces entered.

           The laughter around the table ceased immediately, as all the men went on alert.

           The newcomers all had guns on their belts, weathered faces and looked at the seven sitting with mean expressions.

           “Can I help you gentlemen,” you said politely.

           The one in the middle turned to you with the kind of smile meant to put others at ease, but left the impression of nails on a chalk board.

           “Evening ma’am,” he said smoothly.  “We were just looking for a place to stay the night, but it seems like you’re all full up.”

           “’fraid so,” you said. “Of course, I do have some space in the back I can make for you, but it’ll only fit one, maybe two if you don’t mind brushing elbows.”

           One of the men behind the leader glared daggers at the seven seated.

           “Why can’t they leave,” he spat. “Don’t seem right to serve—”

           “You finish that sentence the way I think you’re gonna finish it, you can leave right now,” you threatened.

           The tension in the air grew palpable as each group stared each other down. The seven men seated all shifted slightly in their seats, their hands presumably over their guns.

The leader of the men gave that same easy smile.

           “We don’t wanna cause no trouble,” he said.  “We’ll just take any food you can spare and be on our way.  Won’t we Jesse?”

           The one named Jesse continued to stare down the men, but gave a stiff nod in compliance.

           You wanted very much to just kick them out right then and there, but you knew it would just cause more trouble. You made a gesture to one of the open tables and the five newcomers each took their seats.  

           The seven each turned back to their seats, but none of them relaxed.  Nobody even said a word.

           You walked back into the kitchen and pulled out five plates of food setting it down by each of the men.

           “Thank you kindly,” the leader said.  “Miss?”

           “Y/L/N,” you said curtly.

           “Y/L/N,” he repeated, rolling the name over in mouth.  “Gotta first name to go with that?”

           “None I give to strangers.”

           He gave a short laugh which made your hair stand on end.

           “Feisty, ain’t yah,” he said.  “And pretty, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

           “You can certainly say so,” you said dryly.  “Anything to drink.”

           “Whiskey if you please.”

           You gave a short nod and walked towards the bar.  You looked up at the mirror behind the counter and stole a quick glance at the table with the seven.  Sam looked the most relaxed out of all of them, but you knew exactly where his hand under the table was.  Billy was leaned over the table, lighting a cigarette, his chair decidedly pushed back. Next to him Goody leaned nonchalantly back in his seat, one arm slung on top of the chair, the other rested on his lap, with a clear line to the other table.  Red Harvest and Horne each sat a little straighter in their seats.  Even Faraday looked a little less drunk as his eyes glanced at the other men.  You finally caught Vasquez’ eye.  He, like Billy, had his seat pushed back away from the table, one hand conveniently placed at his side.  

          He shot you a stern look, moving his arm subtly as if to tell you he was ready to fight.  You have a quick shake of the head.  No trouble. You just needed to get the new men fed and then they’d leave. Thankfully, he got the message, and placed his hand on the table.

          You got the whiskey from the shelf and walked over to the newcomers, pouring them each a shot.

          “Might as well leave the bottle,” the leader said. “I’m Robert by the way, you met Jesse, and this here is Lance, Rich, and John.”

          Each of the men gave a small nod at their name, not really paying attention to you, all except for Robert and Jesse.

          “Nice to meet y’all,” you said stiffly.

          Jesse in particular started to focus his attention on you as he examined your face.

          “Ain’t I see you somewhere before,” Jesse asked.

          “Been ‘round here much?”

          “No.”

          “Then you ain’t seen me,” you said, walking towards the table where the seven were sitting.  

          They all looked at you with variations of worry and trepidation.  You tried your best to give a reassuring smile, but it came off as strained.

          You picked up their used glasses, went back at the bar and started switching them out for clean ones.  As you did, you heard the sound of a chair being pulled back against the floor followed by a pair of footsteps.

          You glanced to your side to see Jesse standing right next to you, staring you down.

          “I’ve seen you somewhere,” he said.  “You been to Texas?”

          “No,” you said, doing your best to sound bored of the conversation.

          “Arizona?”

          “No.”

          There was a small pause and for a brief moment, you though he would drop the subject.

          “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Y/F/N, would it?” he asked.

          Despite your best efforts, your back stiffened and your grip around the glasses tightened.

          “No.”

          Jesse wasn’t buying it as he placed his gun on the counter.

          “Now, you see, I think it is.”

          “Jesse,” Robert said questioningly.

          “This here is Y/F/N Y/L/N,” he announced to the room. “She’s got an $900 bounty on her head dead or alive, shot her local cattle baron right between the eyes.”

          You could feel not just Robert’s men, but Sam’s as well all looking at you in surprise.  

          “You really got the wrong girl,” you lied.  “I’ve never shot anyone in my life.”

          “Now wait a minute,” Robert said, getting up from his chair.  “I’ve never known Jesse to forget a pretty face.  You sure it’s her.”

          “Sure as I’ll ever be,” he said, smiling.  “Woo wee, and here we thought we’d just rob the place.  This works out much better.”

          It was then you heard three more chairs being pulled back and you could only assume, Lance, Rich, and John were not added to the list of men standing.  You didn’t bother to try and sneak a glance at Sam and the others.  Any sudden movement on their part would mean shots fired.

          Jesse picked up his gun and pointed it directly at you.

          “Now, I think you should come with us,” he said with a sly smile. “Just cause you’re wanted dead, doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun before you go. Hate to waste a pretty face.”

          There was a small rustle behind you.  You stole a quickly glance to see Vasquez had moved presumably to stand, but Faraday stopped him by keeping a strong hand on his shoulder.  You then looked towards Robert’s men.  Robert was keeping his eyes on you, but the rest were decidedly turned towards the other table.

          You then looked to Jesse.  He gun was propped up on the counter pointed lazily at you, but it was then you noticed, he had two guns on his belt.  One he wasn’t using, pressed between his leg and the counter.

          Carefully, you raised your hands and moved away from the bar, turning to face Jesse.

          He kept his gun on you the whole time, and didn’t reach for his spare. Robert stayed where he was, and the rest placed their hands on their guns looking hard at the other group.

          “You know, I was really starting to like it here,” you said darkly.

          “That ain’t my problem,” Jesse said.  “Now start walking.”

          You took a small step forward and then quickly closed the gap between you and Jesse.  He barely had time to react as you yanked his gun hand above his head with one hand and dove for his spare gun with the other. You pulled it out of its holster and with a deafening bang, Jesse fell over dead.

          Robert went for his gun, but you shot him twice in the chest before he could even clear leather.

          You turned down into a crouch as a volley of shots went over your head from Robert’s remaining men.  You returned with three shots, and three bodies dropped, never to move again.

          You stayed there a moment, gun still raised breathing hard.  Nobody moved and soon the nighttime sounds began to fill the air once again.

          Slowly, you stood up and looked over to the group of men still sitting all looking you in shock and awe.

          “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you said, lowering your gun. “It’s probably best y’all leave.”

          “Nothing to apologize for,” Sam said.  “We just saw a woman acting in self-defense, didn’t we?”

          To your surprise, each of the men at the table gave confirming nods.

          “That man there said they were planning on robbing the place,” Faraday said pointing at Jesse’s body.

          “Held a lady at gun point too,” Goodnight added.

          “Those boys there had their guns trained on us the whole time,” Horne said looking towards Lance, Rich, and John.

          “That’s the leader,” Billy said, pointing at Robert.

          “No hablo ingles senor,” Vasquez said.

          Red Harvest gave a look of utter confusion as if he didn’t understand anything that was going on.

          You honestly didn’t know what to say.  You felt a warm feeling in your chest as you felt a small smile appear on your face.

          Sam then looked to Goodnight.

          “Probably best if you got the sheriff,” he said.  

          Goodnight nodded in understanding and got up from his seat, grabbing his hat as he went.  He shot you one quick smile before heading right out the door.

          There was a small silence that followed, but you could feel the lingering questions in the air.

          “So,” Faraday said.  “Just out of curiosity, why did you shoot a cattle baron right between the eyes?”

          You looked to Faraday, staring him down with unflinching eyes.

          “It’s quite simple really,” you said.  “He had it coming.”

          Faraday raised his arms in the universal sign of surrender as he leaned back in his chair, fully realizing that was all he was going to get.  The other men seemed to get that as well as they all turned their eyes away from you.  All except for one.

          Vasquez stared at you as if seeing you for the first time.  You met his eyes and an odd sense of understanding took over you.  

          Vasquez knew exactly what you felt the moment you killed that man all those years ago.  He knew the righteous anger, that flowed through you went you pulled the trigger and the relief when he fell to the ground. You also had the distinct feeling he knew exactly what it was like to have to leave everything behind for the sake of that dead man you left at your feet.

          He gave you a small nod as a silent promise between outlaws.  He wouldn’t say anything about why you really did it and neither would you.

* * *

          Goodnight was back in a matter of hours.  

          Sam took the lead, explaining everything that happened; conveniently leaving out the nine-hundred dollar bounty on your head and emphasizing the fact he was a duly sworn warrant officer from Wichita, Kansas, and a licensed peace officer in the Indian territories, Kansas, Nebraska and seven other states.  The men all gave their testimony’s and you told the sheriff how it all happened so fast, you barely remembered what happened.

          The sheriff bought it, stating it was a clear case of self-defense.  He and his deputies took the bodies away, leaving you and the other seven men on your own.

          Sam made the suggestion that everyone turn in for the night, to which there was no protest.

          You made your way to the small cot in the back of the outpost and lay down hoping for sleep to come. Your mind wouldn’t stop turning, playing over the last few hours in your head.  Someone had recognized you.  You were almost caught.  Sam might have been able to cover for you, but it would only be a matter of time before the sheriff found out who you were.  Trouble had found you again.  First thing in the morning, you would have to leave.  

          You woke up just as the sun began to rise.  You felt bad leaving before the rest of the men were up.  You felt like you should have at least made them breakfast after everything they did for you, but you knew if you stayed that long, you’d never have it in you to leave.  

          You packed light, just the clothes on your back, gun, riffle, and whatever else you could fit into your saddle bag.  You made your way to the stables, and quickly found your horse waiting for you.

          “Hey there girl,” you said soothingly as you rubbed her nose. “Looks like we’re back on the road again.”

          “You’re leaving?” a voice called.

          You turned to see Vasquez standing just inside the stable door.

          “Think it’s best I be moving on,” you said.  “Owner will be back in a day or two.  Don’t think I should be here when he comes.”

          Vasquez gave a nod in understanding, as he walked towards you.

          “Where are you headed,” he asked.

          You gave a non-committal shrug.

          “Don’t know, someplace else I guess.”

          “Alone?”

          You raised your eyebrow at the question.

          “I know you can handle yourself,” he said.  “Still doesn’t mean you should go alone.  Usually brings trouble.”

          “Trouble seems to find me where ever I go,” you countered. “Doesn’t matter who I’m with.”

          “Maybe you should ride with us then,” he said

          You didn’t say anything.  Your eyes went wide as your mouth fell slightly open.

          “Easier to face troubles in a group then on your own,” he clarified.

          “You offering me to ride with you?” you asked, still not fully believing it.

          “We talked it over last night,” he shrugged. “You’re good in a fight, smart, reliable, and I’m pretty sure last night was the only time I’ve seen Red eat something he didn’t make himself.”

          You huffed a small laugh at that.

          “It’s just an offer,” he said.  “You don’t have to take it, but know all of us would like to have you along if you want to.”

          His expression then shifted, looking almost nervous.

          “At least, I know I would,” he added. 

          You felt your cheek grow involuntarily hot, but you shook it off as best you could.

          You looked over him, thinking over his offer carefully.

          You thought about all seven, and how quickly they came to your defense after only knowing you for a few hours.  You thought about the comradery between them, and the warm feeling it sent in your chest.  You thought about the man in front of you and how much you’d regret never seeing him again.  

          “I think I’ll take you up on it,” you said.  “Be nice to have company for once.”

          Vasquez’s face gave away a relieved smile which he tried to cover with a discrete cough. 

          “Guess that settles it then,” he said.  “C’mon, let’s get something to eat.”

          You felt a smile spread across your face as you followed him out of the stable doors.  Being with the seven was certainly going to bring you trouble, but you had a feeling, it was all going to be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you like this, check out my tumblr @ shenanigans-and-imagines.tumblr.com
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment if you are so inclined.


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